


Damian Wayne vs. The World

by borkybarnes



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU, DCU (Comics), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Damian Wayne is Robin, Damian Wayne-centric, Gen, Humor, One Shot Collection, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Stephanie Brown is Spoiler, bruce and tony have an ongoing competition about who's richer (sorry i dont make the rules), damian cant right now, damian goes to diagon alley and weasleys wizarding wheezes, damian's salty through most of these, fred and george annoy the shit out of damian, this is a mess
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-06
Updated: 2020-02-16
Packaged: 2021-01-23 23:23:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21328387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/borkybarnes/pseuds/borkybarnes
Summary: A collection of one shots in which Damian Wayne has to suffer meeting new people. How annoying.
Relationships: Bruce Wayne & Damian Wayne, Damian Wayne & Fred Weasley, Damian Wayne & George Weasley, Fred Weasley & George Weasley, Peter Parker & Damian Wayne, Tony Stark & Bruce Wayne
Comments: 4
Kudos: 145





	1. Round One: Peter Parker

Galas were never Damian’s idea of a relaxing Friday night. Doing patrol and taking down the lowly criminals of Gotham sounded like a much better use of his time; but Todd and Drake were taking care of that, and Grayson was in Bludhaven on official BHPD business. They’d all left him to suffer alone with old ladies pinching his cheeks and nosy reporters sniffing around where they didn’t belong.

“Well, well! If it isn’t my favorite other billionaire?” Damian eyes locked on the approaching men, one with an impeccably groomed goatee and the other with an expression screaming “I-don’t-know-what-I’m-doing.” The man with the goatee met his gaze and asked, “New partner, Wayne?”

“My son,” Bruce said, placing a hand on Damian’s shoulder. “Damian, this is Tony Stark. Tony, this is my son, Damian.”

“Wow, who’d  _ you  _ get busy with?” Stark asked.

Bruce ignored the comment, turning to the anxious one. “I don’t believe we’ve met. Bruce Wayne.”

“Oh! I’m, uh, I’m Peter. Parker. Peter Parker. I mean, my first name’s Peter, my last name’s Parker. It’s not like a hyphenated name like Peter-Parker. Well, that  _ is  _ my name, it’s just not hyphenated…” His face turned pink as he took Bruce’s outstretched hand. “It’s an honor to meet you, sir.”

Damian scoffed. “You don’t go to a lot of these, do you?”

Peter’s face grew redder and Bruce hissed, “Damian.”

“What? He looks like he went for a swim in a pool.”

“You can’t just say that to people, Damian. It’s rude.”  
Damian rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. Tony just snorted and said, “You’ve got a little sourpuss there, I see.” He patted Peter on the shoulder and said, “I’ll leave you with pipsqueak over here while Wayne and I chat, ‘kay, kid?”

“Mr. Stark—!”

“Father—!” 

Both Damian and Peter were cut off their respective adult walking away, already in a deep conversation about the financial crisis and crime spikes in big cities. Damian glared back at Peter, who was shifting his weight from foot to foot and glancing at every possible exit point—the windows, the door that led to the hall, the door that led to the balcony, and the vent. “Are you always like this?”

Peter jumped. “What?”

“Are you always like this?” Damian repeated.

“Like what?”  
“_This_.” Damian clarified, “A mess.”  
“Oh, I… well—”

Damian huffed. “Do you know how to form a proper sentence or even a phrase?”  
“I do!” Peter frowned. “Dude, why are you so mean?”

Damian found himself rolling his eyes again. “I’m just trying to make conversation. No need to be such a baby.” Peter opened his mouth to retort, but Damian held a hand up to silence him. “Look, you’re unfortunately the only entertainment I have at this. If I’m going to survive the night, you need to at least be able to say something without tripping over every word.”

“What about me?”

Damian narrowed his eyes. “What about you?”

“I—nevermind.” Peter’s eyes darted around the room and Damian followed his gaze once more, trailing over the guests, the chandeliers, the musicians, before settling on the buffet tables lining three of the four walls. There were different categories on each table—appetizers on one, entrees on the second, and dessert and drinks on the last. Damian noticed Peter’s incredibly puppy dog-like gaze at the three-tiered chocolate cake on the third table and sighed. “Let’s go.”

“What?”  
“Is everything I say going to be followed by a pointless question?”

“If you don’t give me any context, then yeah!” Peter ran a hand down his face, mumbling, “This is a nightmare.”   
“For you and me both,” said Damian. “Come on. Let’s get that cake you want so badly.”

“How did you—?”

“Just follow me.” Damian didn’t wait, weaving through the crowds of men in suits and women in tight gowns. A waiter narrowly missed Damian’s face with a tray of crab cakes, earning a heated glower from the boy. As the waiter scurried off, Damian peeked over his shoulder, Peter nowhere to be seen. 

Damian suppressed a grunt and turned back, searching for a nervous, sweaty teen. Honestly, it wasn’t hard to find him. Peter, despite having one of  _ the most generic faces Damian ever saw _ looked acutely out of place in the ballroom, unmoving among the flow of people. Damian stopped over, grabbing Peter by the arm. “You’re really dumb.”

Peter didn’t reply, letting out a loud sigh. “Here.” Damian, rather brutally, cut a piece of cake and handed it to Peter. When Peter didn’t grab a fork, Damian glowered. “Are you just going to stare at it, Parker?”

Peter looked from the fork to Damian and back to the cake before reluctantly taking the silverware. He shoved a piece in his mouth, and Damian rolled his eyes as Peter savored the taste. “Follow me. You’re the only form of entertainment here.”

“I just got my—”

“Now.”

“Alright, alright. Jeez.”

Score: Damian - 1; World - 0


	2. Round Two: Fred and George Weasley

Damian already knew what it was like to have older brothers. Annoying older brothers who are always in your business. But these two were in a whole other ballpark and Damian, frankly, felt sorry for both their older and younger siblings.

He’d stumbled upon this place called Diagon Alley by pure circumstance, chasing after Mad Mod with Spoiler. He’d gotten tangled in a trap and he’d insisted that Brown not worry about him. (“Just go apprehend that hideous cretin”, Damian said, trying to remember where he’d stuffed that butterfly knife.) When he did free himself, he went in the direction Brown and Mad Mod had sprinted. 

Then he reached a dead end. A brick wall. He’d huffed and banged on some of the stones. If being Robin had taught him anything, it was that nothing was what it seemed to be. 

The bricks had rearranged themselves to open up and reveal a bustling scene of oddly-robed people flitting around what seemed to be a marketplace. He wandered inside, the bricks closing behind him. He passed women in ridiculous hats and men who wore monocles (What was this, the eighteenth century?), who glanced at him as if  _ he  _ was the weird one.

Damian wondered if Mad Mod would’ve gone into whatever this place was or if this was another one of his traps. Either way, Damian headed for the storefront that was (regrettably) painted orange with a larger-than-life animatronic man lifting his hat. It looked like somewhere that Mod would be in—garish and ugly. 

Damian wrinkled his nose as he looked around, reading the signs for the products. Love potions. Dungbombs. Weather in a bottle. Whatever a Miraculous Mystic Mayhem Maker was. He plucked a boxing telescope from a shelf, frowning at it. When he looked inside, a small boxing glove shot out and nearly socked him in the eye. Damian scowled and put it back. 

“Well, well, well! Never seen your face here before.” A very tall, very loud redhead sauntered down a flight of stairs, coming to stand next to Damian. An identical man followed, seemingly equally intrigued.

“I’ve never been here.” Damian gritted out. He motioned to the shelves. “This is ridiculous.”

“That’s the point, mate,” laughed the second one. “It’s all just good fun, you know?”

Damian rolled his eyes. “Seems more like a waste of time.”

“This one’s uptight, Georgie,” the first snickered, nudging the second. 

“Sure looks like it.”  _ Georgie  _ turned to another display, picking up a carton and holding it out to Damian. “Here.” 

The carton read: U-No-Poo. Damian pushed it away from him. “I’d rather not.” 

“Suit yourself, kid,” said the first, and just when Damian thought they’d lead him alone, the first smacked his palm to his head. “We’re so rude, George! We never even introduced ourselves.” He smiled broadly. “I’m Fred, and this is my twin, George.”

“I pieced that together,” Damian replied. “I’m guessing you’re the  _ Weasleys _ , then?”

“Clever boy,” George said.

Damian rolled his eyes again. These two reminded him of Dick, if Dick was on an extreme steroid dose. “Anyways, I didn’t come here for  _ this _ —” He motioned to the whole store. “Have you seen a badly dressed, red-haired man?”

“Sound like you, Freddie,” George said. 

“We look alike,” Fred deadpanned. “So you basically played yourself, George.”

George ignored him, saying, “Sorry, mate, haven’t seen him. Sounds looney, if you ask me.”

“Thank you for your minimal help,” Damian said, turning on his heel to leave. 

“Wait.” It was Fred. (Or was it George? Those two were surprisingly hard to tell apart.) “Sure you don’t want to buy anything? Anyone you want to play a joke on? Parent?”

The other twin chimed in, “Friend?”

“Sibling?”

“Arch-nemesis?”

Damian opened his mouth to snap: “ _ Can I use it on you two _ ?” When a familiar face strolled in. Trench coat. Five o’clock shadow. Cigarette in hand. “Constantine.” Damian was never so relieved in his life.

“If it isn’t the littlest bird,” John Constantine said, shoving his hands in his coat pockets. “Been looking for you. Spoiler caught Mad Mod.”

Damian nodded. “Fantastic. Where is she?”   
“I’ll bring you to her.” Constantine flicked his head at the twins. “Nice to see you two again. How’s Mum?”

“She’s good. Miffed with us—”

“But what’s new?”

Constantine chuckled. “Give her my regards. Your father too.”

“‘Course.”

“I’ll see you around.” Constantine steered Damian toward the door when one of the twins yelled, “Hang on a second!”

They appeared in front of Damian, grinning widely. “What? he asked. He swore that if one more inane thing came out of their mouths, he was going to have a fit.

“What’s with the getup,  _ little bird _ ?”

Damian’s eye twitched. 


End file.
